The Dragon's Choice
by googleduckie
Summary: Angst-y Draco Malfoy and his decision between good and evil... It's a pretty short story, but I think it shows what Draco is REALLY like without taking him OOC! read and tell me what u think!! :)
1. It's Always Too Late

Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling is a genius who created Harry Potter (even if she is now slightly corrupted by the media etc and i'm mad at her cuz she hasn't gotten the fifth book written yet, she's still awesome) I am a pitiful little person who wrote this mainly to entertain myself... but anyways, i hope it entertains you guys too, and it doesn't compel you to sue me, as all you would get is a broken music stand and two paper polynesian dancers named fred and george. and now, on with the story...  
  
Authors Note: Read and enjoy my idea of what Draco's life is really like... sorta. I don't think I mentioned when this takes place, so it's around 5th or 6th year, doesn't really matter which. Actually, it could probably have happened earlier too, but 5th or 6th year works best! Just read, enjoy, and REVIEW! (please) they make me so incredibly happy... :) luv yas!  
  
  
The warm fire danced in front of Draco as he sat sullenly in the large armchair of the Slytherin common room. Glancing around the crowded chamber, Draco felt lonely, and fearful. Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson sat on the ground, the large girl neatly sandwiched between the two even larger boys, their hands lazily exploring each other. Draco turned away in disgust. Across the room, a group of first and second years giggled over homework and harmless gossip. It was harmless gossip, Draco knew. Those kids were too young to get into the rumour-filled messes he had gotten in. Even he was too young, now that he thought about it. 'Not that it was my fault,' Draco muttered into the flames.   
  
"Sorry dear, did you say something?" Pansy looked up at him.   
  
"No, nothing," Draco said. "I was just... thinking."   
  
Pansy gave him a smile that actually made her look pretty before turning her attention back to the two oafs beside her. Draco continued observing the other Slytherins as they went about their normal night-time activities. A group of seventh years conversed in low tones across the room. Draco found he couldn't stare at them for too long. They made him ashamed. Ashamed and afraid. 'Last year I would have given anything to be in that group," the boy thought bitterly. 'Now, they make me sick. They don't know what they're talking about.' He preferred to watch the younger students, the innocent ones who hadn't yet felt the horrors of Slytherin and who were yet to be corrupted. He closed his eyes, trying to remember when he had also been that free from the burden of evil . . .  
  
  
Before Hogwarts... his mother had taught him at home. He was a quick learner, but he lacked common sense. He still did, as a matter of fact. He just knew so much more about the world now. Back then, he never noticed his father's secrecy, the hidden possessions, silent conversations, sudden disappearnaces. Draco always had everything he wanted, and he was happy that way. He was proud of himself, too. A bit too proud, perhaps, but he always believed he had reason to be. Didn't his mother always say he was the perfect son, quick and clever, athletic, part of one of the strongest and most respected families in the wizard world. Right? Draco didn't realize how sheltered he was. Hogwarts began to change that. Right from the very first day. Draco remembered the shock he felt when Harry Potter refused to be his friend. The horror when he realized many other wizards looked down on his family. And ashamed when that Mudblood Hermione Granger beat him in marks in every class. That had opened his eyes, yes, but it made him stronger, harder, more determined to succeed and prove to his father that he could be powerful.   
  
Life remained pretty much the same for Draco during the first years at Hogwarts. His fellow Slytherins respected him. That was enough. He was able to overlook his insecurities, or avoid them as was needed. He still looked up to those with power, like his father, even though he was a cold man. Draco knew no other way to live, and was content with his life. Content, but not happy. The summer before his fourth year changed everything even more. Before that, he had known almost nothing about his father's business, as Lucius Malfoy called it. Draco always assumed the Dark Magic objects were normal. He knew no other way. But then, Draco began noticing things. Good things. Evil things. And he realized what a huge difference there was between the two. And the more he observed the world around him, the more apparent it became: his father chose the evil things, and he expected Draco to someday follow in his footsteps. At first, he thought it would be easy, and it was never exactly demanding. But once he learned more, experienced more, Draco found himself afraid of the power, and full of disgust for what it made his father do. Perhaps he was as weak as his father said he was, but Draco didn't want to be involved in torturings or other hateful practices. He had better things on his mind. But it was too late.   
  
'It's always too late,' thought Draco as he watched the fire die away. 'I can never go back' He rubbed his left forearm as it stung, almost burning the creamy flesh. 'But I can't stay where I am...' "I don't belong here," he cried aloud, to an empty common room. Empty, as he was. Empty, as he would always be. Empty as the world. Draco studied the glowing embers as he touched the dark tattoo on his arm and felt his world swirl around him into chaos as he disappeared from the safety of Hogwarts.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
like? or not like? tell me in a review!!! :) 


	2. The Only Escape

AN: Hey peoples! The disclaimer for the first chapter is the same for this one, ok? just keep that in mind! Another thing to remember: this is my first fanfic, so please review, and give me good critical reviews. (or just say that i'm wonderful, whatever! hehe. jk!) Sorry these chapters are so short... they seemed longer when doodled in the sides of my spanish notebook... I'm working on another fic with longer (i hope) chapters and a longer plot. I just need to find the time to type it all up and post it, so keep checking for that if u like Draco-y goodness! I think that's pretty much it, so read, review, and enjoy!  
  
~googleduckie~  
  
Crawling into his cold bed, Draco shivered. It had been another night of pain. The meetings themselves weren't that bad. Mostly boring, actually. But once the old wizards and witches started talking about their adventures, Draco was disgusted. How could they admire one another for these perverse, revolting actions? And now, he was finding it increasingly challenging to behave as though he too considered Muggles to be the scum of the Earth, and Mudblood's to be even worse. Draco could hardly believe his father. He had always seemed so respectable, so admirable; but he knew better now, and wanted to do nothing more than change his name and get away from these horrors. Anything to avoid the revolting meetings and the curse of his family's evil name.  
  
However he behaved, Draco knew, inside, that he wasn't evil. But he couldn't escape. The small mark on his arm kept him tied toa world of hatred, a world he despised. Draco shut his eyes tightly as he lay in the dark. The dark. That endless void. He hated to admit it, but Draco feared the darkenss. He was afraid of what might be there, waiting for him, and what it might do to him. And the dark reminded him of... of evil. Of the worst evil imaginable. And Draco hated that evil. It ruined his life. Forced him to be someone he wasn't. Forced him to do things he didn't believe in. Forced him to be scared of himself. Keeping his eyes tightly shut, Draco fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of a release form his inescapable past.  
  
  
"Today," Severus Snape's icy voice cut through the cold dungeon air. "Today we begin study of poisons." He allowed himself a quick, malicious grin before continuing. "As this is obviously a rather dangerous lesson, it is critical that you PAY ATTENTION, lest you happen to kill your partner!"   
  
Draco sighed. 'Would it really be that bad?' he wondered silently, glancing at his partner. 'Perhaps they'd send me to Azkaban for it. Then I'd at least be free from this awful life.'   
  
His partner, a Gryffindor he had never met, began sloppily preparing the ingredients. Obsessed with order and neatness, Malfoy looked away in disgust.   
  
'Then again,' he considered, 'perhaps he'll end up killing me! I'd be free at last!' He jumped back, suddenly frightened of his own thoughts. It would just be so easy. And he'd be so free. It was the only way to escape this trapped life he hated. Grabbing an empty vial, Draco poured a tiny bit of the finished potion in and carefully stored the container safely under his cloak as Snape began lecturing about antidotes. Draco didn't give his decision anymore thought. He didn't need to. He did, however, need to get away from the horrors of evil surrounding his life. Death was the only answer, and maybe it would show the rest of the world something too. It would show his father that he was wrong. It would show everyone the truth, whatever that was. Draco could think of nothing more perfect.  
  
  
  
Lying in his bed, Draco still had the dreadful aftertaste of the poison in his mouth. He wondered how long the potion would take to work before he drifted into a silent slumber.  
  
  
  
A burning senstaion in his left arm awoke Draco before dawn. He pushed the pain from his mind as he thought, 'I'll never have to respond to those horrors again' before falling back asleep.  
  
"Uh, Draco?" Crabbe prodded his foot. "Wake up? C'mon, I can't find my socks!"   
  
Draco looked up groggily. 'Wait!' he shouted in his mind. 'I'm not meant to be awake! I should be dead. . . free. . . happy.' He flopped out of bed, wondering what was wrong, before staggering out of the bedroom and making his way to the Great Hall for breakfast.   
  
Passing the library, Draco paused, considering trying to find a book that would explain why he was still alive. His whole body felt as though it were made of mud. Unable to control himself, he slumped forward, falling right to the ground in front of the heavy library doors. Seconds later, the large doors swung open as Hermione Granger wandered out of the library, lost in thought.   
  
"Oof!" she grunted, falling over the collapsed body in front of her. Carefully standing and dusting off her usually immaculate robes, the girl observed the lump who normally went by the name of Draco when he was not lying on the floor, knocked out by a powerful poison he forced himself to take.   
  
"M-Malfoy?" stammered Hermione, bending down to get a closer look. As she reached for the body to feel for a pulse, she heard the familiar swish of robes as someone hurried down the corridor. "Thank goodness," she let out in a quiet whisper, glad that someone would be there to help here. She hadn't, however, counted on the person rounding the corner to be the only person she hated more than the boy lying before her: Professor Severus Snape.  
  
Realizing the danger she would be in if Snape found his least favouirte Mudblood standing over his favourite student's unconscious body, Hermione panicked, racking her brains for a solution. As Snape moved closer and closer, his usually void face was wearing a look of puzzlement, and Hermione decided the truth was the best way to go.  
  
"Well," hissed the Potion's Master, "what have you done to Malfoy now, girl?"   
  
"Professor, see, I just came out of the library and noticed Malfoy here and I-I-I don't know what's wrong with him!" Hermione said breathlessly, her pulse racing. "Should I go get Madam Pomfrey, sir? Malfoy doesn't look good! What's wrong with him?"   
  
Snape, obviously perturbed at the sight of the sixteen-year-old boy on the ground, now ignored the flustered girl as he stared at malfoy. Reaching for the boy's wrist to feel his pulse, Snape suddenly pulled his hand back. Shaking, he stood. He stared with empty eyes at Hermione as he tersely demanded, "Dumbledore. Go get Dumbledore. I'm taking Draco to my office. Now hurry girl!"   
  
Thoroughly frightened, Hermione turned and bolted down the hall.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
oooh! what's going to happen to Draco?? keep reading and you'll find out. or clickie on the review button and make the author happy... or both! =P 


	3. The Hardest Path

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the little voices in my head telling me what to write...  
  
  
  
Snape paced the worn floor of his office, avoiding looking at the sleeping form on the hard couch. He had quickly delivered Malfoy the antidote, and left him to sleep while he thought. 'He's so young! I knew his father was. . . but why so soon? . . . so promising, now . . . pressured into it? I hope. . . just like me . . . no escape."  
  
Snape clutched his left forearm frantically, and collapsed in a chair, tears silently burning a path down his rough cheeks. A sharp knock on the door startled the professor out of his stupor. With a deep breath, he called out, "Enter, Dumbledore."  
  
The wise old wizard came into the room quitely, waiting to hear what Snape had to say, although he already knew what was going on. Dumbledore had a way of knowing everything, he always had.  
  
Snape paused, unsure of how to begin. He suspected that Dumbledore had an idea of what had happened, but you could never be sure.  
  
"He- he's getting stronger, sir. Lord Voldemort, I mean, the Dark Lord. I felt it in my arm. I-I can hardly move it. But. . . that's not all that told me. It was. . ." he pointed at Draco's body. "He's taking them even younger. We have Death Eaters amongst us, Albus!" Snape said this last sentence urgently, almost as a plea for help.  
  
"But he is not a faithful Death Eater, Severus," Dumbledore responded calmly and quietly. "A true Death Eater would not try to escape. Surely you realize this is what caused him the pain?"  
  
Snape stood silently as Dumbledore touched the young boy's forehead, muttering a few well-chosen words. The boy blinked his eyes drowsily as he tried to sit up. Suddenly taking in his surroundings, Draco yanked his cloak down to cover his exposed left arm, fear suddenly entering his dark eyes.  
  
"It's alright. We saw." Dumbledore said quietly and simply.  
  
Draco lowered his eyes, unable to face Snape or the head master, ashamed and embarrassed at being found out in this way, being so completely weak in front of two powerful wizards, two wizards who would never show the cowardice he showed. "I'm sorry." Despite all his talk about despising the headmaster, Draco had come to respect him when compared to the harsh master he now knew.  
  
"I'm sure you understand Mr. Malfoy, that we can allow no Death Eaters in Hogwarts. That group goes against everything that this school stands for," Dumbledore seemed saddened by more than the fact that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater.  
  
Scared, Draco responded, "If you only knew... please... I don't believe anything that group stands for. I was. . . my father. . . I didn't know. . ." he trailed off, watching Dumbledore's thoughful face.  
  
"Albus, if I may. . . " Snape requested quietly. "Might I deal with Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
"Teach him all you know, and keep him safe, Severus," the headmaster replied. Turning to Draco, he said, "You chose a dark path. And now, an even harder path has chosen you. You are alive because you need to try. You have the power to help others and in doing so save yourself. If you succeed, .you will have my respect, I assure you of that. A certain amount of bravery, courage and intellect is required to go against Voldemort, particularly after you have sworn loyalty to him."  
  
Draco shuddered at the mention of the name, rubbing his arm vigourously. Finally, after a moment of thought, he sighed resolutely. "Then I'll die trying if I must; I can't stand being a part of... of him."  
  
Snape nodded. "Neither could I." 


End file.
